Aaron Burr (1756-2011)
by Ghost in the Corner
Summary: Whenever a human does does something really bad, they end up in Hell. It's even worse if you end up in Hell for killing one of your best friends.
1. Chapter 1

He'd been running for so long. Since his duel with Alexander, he's been hated by all of America. That day had completely tarnished his legacy. That caused Aaron to live abroad for so many years. But at the old age of 80, he decided to return to America. But of course, that didn't end well. It was a cold day in February, and it was seemingly normal. Until he felt his arms flail to his sides before falling into the floor. His brain began to feel very fuzzy, beginning to drown in darkness. The last thing he saw was his second wife, Eliza, screaming over him, before it became nothing.

Mere moments later, Aaron woke up. But, this was different then when he awoke in the morning. All he saw was heavy smoke, and he heard screams in the distance. And, it didn't feel like waking up. More like he never rested. He tried to get up, but he couldn't move his arms or his legs. Aaron looked up to see his arms, and couldn't believe what he saw. There was a hook protruding from his wrist. He looked around, seeing all of his limbs wrapped in chains. Panic began arise as he struggled against his bonds.

"Don't try to struggle." An all too familiar voice said. Aaron felt intense chills run through his bones as he looked up. The smiling, black-eyed face of an old friend looked down at him. "Did you miss me?" He said, showing off a smirk.

"Al-Alexander?" Aaron sputtered fearfully.

"Burr."

"H-How? This is imp-impossible." He could hardly speak. There was so much smoke in the air, he could hardly breath. "I killed you…"

"Mhm. You did." Alexander nodded as he began to walk around the bonded man. "But you're dead too." Aaron's terror deepened as Alexander's eyes seemed to get blacker. An evil smile crept onto his face and leant down into the man's complete vision. "Welcome to Hell." Alexander began to laugh.

Tears began to roll down Burr's face. "I killed you, a-nd you went to Hel-ll?"

"Dear lord, no." Alexander- er, Not-Alexander scoffed. "The real Hamilton is in Heaven. Good thing, too. He would've been the most chatty, annoying demon anyone's ever met."

Aaron was confused. Demon? Hamilton was human, he couldn't be a demon. Unless- "Yes, you're correct. Here in Hell, souls go through hundreds and hundreds of years of torture. And eventually, they all turn out the same way." Alexander spread his arms out, like he was showing off. "Beautiful blacked-eyed beauties like me." He leaned down right next to Aaron's ear. "And you're no exception." Hamilton burst into maniacal laughter.

A noise came from his right, and he turned to see something even worse; his daughter, Theodosia, who was sporting black eyes and an evil smile. She was pushing a cart full of torture devices.

"Now comes the real fun." Alexander chirped happily. He picked up a knife from the cart, which was then shoved into Burr's gallbladder. He was screaming as the stomach acid squirting out burnt his wound.

"Say my name." Hamilton said calmly. "When you scream, scream my name! Beg me for mercy!"

Aaron glared at him through the pain. "What's your na- name, man?" He spat through gritted teeth.

Hamilton smirked. "Alexander Hamilton." He sang.

The demon cut into him again, this time with a twisted knife. Out came his gallbladder. He continued in with other torture devices, Theodosia joining in. They both hummed along to Burr's screams.

By the end of what felt like a day, Aaron had been sliced into nothing. What remained of his soul was shuddering from the pain. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was whole again. It looked like nothing had happened. He was confused.

"Didn't I say hundreds of years of torture?" Alexander's voice said. "We can't do that if you're only atoms." The standing man was smiling evilly. Aaron glared at him.

"Aw, you're so cute." Theodosia's voice cooed. "Trying to defy Hellspawn. That's adorable."

"Now, now, Theodosia. Let him have his moment."

Aaron stared at them both angrily. But he knew he ended up here for a reason. That reason was Alexander's death. And he was told that every soul in Hell would become a demon. Not him. He would take the pain. For Alexander. For Theodosia. For everyone he's ever wronged.

"I have to say," Hamilton began. "I'm surprised you're being defiant. After all, these are Hell's best tools. And you're also in the presence of our best torturer." He gestured to himself.

"Though, if you like, you could be on the other end of the knife." Theodosia chimed in. She was holding the twisted blade in front of the man's face. "Instead of being tortured, you torture. You don't scream, you cause screams."

Burr felt his anger bubble up inside. "Never." He spat. "I w-will never succu-umb to your offers."

"Suit yourself." Alexander shrugged. "But one day, you will." He was smiling. Then he plunged another blade into Aaron's eye, causing blood to splatter everywhere. Aaron screamed like he never screamed before.

* * *

Everyday it was the same. The torture, the rebirth, the offer. The only thing that changed were the people that tortured him; Hamilton, Theodosia, Jefferson, Madison, Washington, Laurens, the list went on and on. They all cut into him, taking him apart everyday, piece by piece. Everyday a little death.

The days eventually spanned out into weeks. Then years. It felt like he'd been there a century when the wretched day finally came.

Aaron was being tortured by both Alexander and Eliza Hamilton. They had cut into him in new ways then before. They seemed intent on making him experience new pain.

"I'm impressed." Eliza sneered. "Most people give up within their first week. I thought you'd give in your first day."

"But it's been a hundred years for you. Congratulations." Alexander finished. He began plucking needles up Aaron's nose. "This is your prize; me not going straight through your nose." Blood rolled down the man's face as more and more needles were shoved into his sinuses.

Burr glared up at the demon, his eyes blood red. He doesn't want to end it. He has a legacy to protect. And it won't be protected if he becomes a demon. But... the pain was unbearable. He couldn't continue on like this. He-

"GAAAAAAH!" He screamed as Eliza ripped his head from his shoulders. Aaron was forced to look at his own struggling, bloody body. There was a waterfall of the crimson liquid proofing out of his neck. He felt the tears rush to his eyes.

Eliza held his head close. "Ah, our work is beautiful. Isn't it, my love?"

"It is indeed, my dear Eliza." Alexander replied before he shoved the twisted blade into the bottom of his skull. The tears spilt over his eyelids.

"Aw, don't cry." The female demon cooed. "It's not over yet. It'll get worse."

"I don't think it will." The male demon interrupted.

"What are you talking about, Alexander?"

"I think today is finally the day." His smirk grew in intensity, the black in his eyes deepened. "Pardon me, Aaron Burr, sir?"

Aaron looked up into the demonic face of one of his closest friends. "Fine." He mumbled. "Fine. I'll do it."

Before he could think another thought, he was standing in front of the Hamiltons. He could feel himself as whole again.

"I told you it would happen one day." Alexander smirked. "Though it is impressive you held out a hundred years. Very uncharacteristic."

Aaron didn't respond. He didn't want to. The shame he felt was unimaginable. He shouldn't have said yes. But he can't go back.

"By the way," Alexander spoke. "My name is Alistair. But you will address me as Master. This," He gestured to Eliza. "is Meg. Now leave us, girl." Eliza- no, Meg, smiled darkly as she slipped past Aaron.

"Good luck. It's going to be a fun few centuries for you." She looked smug as she slipped past the man, disappearing into the hellfire.

"Are you ready to begin, Burr?" Alistair asked.

Burr sighed. "Yes, Master."

Alistair began morphing into a different form; the form of Dolley Madison.

"Uh, should I be-"

"No." He recognized the voice of Dolley. "You stay just the way you are." She smiled with jagged teeth.

"Burr," Alistair spoke. "Follow me."

Aaron obliged, following the demon into the heavy smoke. When he emerged, he saw a terrible sight; James Madison. He shouldn't be here. He was a good man. He shouldn't have ended up in Hell.

"James?" He spoke. Burr was greeted with an intense glare, which changed into a look of surprise.

"You're eyes... they're not…" James was squinting at him. "Burr? Is that really you?"

"Yes." Aaron replied, looking to his feet. "It's me."

"Why are you here?"

He didn't respond for a moment. "I murdered Alex-"

"No, I know why you're here, but why are you here here?"

Aaron was silent. "He's not as strong as you, James." Alistair intervened. "He took me up on the offer. My new apprentice." She was flicking her fingers up and down his face.

James have him an incredulous look. "You did?" Slowly, Aaron nodded. "You weakling!" He screamed. "How dare you dishonour our country like that!" Madison kept on screaming as Alistair leaned down into Aaron's ear.

"Now's the time." She slid her hand down to where he was gripping the twisted blade. "Torture one of the men who ruined your career."

Alistair smirked as Aaron stepped forward. Essentially, James didn't have a hand in ruining his political life. He just tried to imprison him for the murder of Hamilton. No. It wasn't his career. It was his whole life that Madison helped to destroy.

Aaron looked down at a red-faced James. He felt the anger bubbling inside him. For what Jefferson and Madison did to his for 40 years...

The blade was thrust into Madison's side with ease. The scream that filled the air satisfied Burr in ways he could never explain.


	2. Chapter 2

It's felt like it's been millennia. Though he's told it hasn't been that long. Apparently, time in Hell passes differently than on Earth. And if time passes differently, that means the more fun he could have.

Sure, in the beginning, he was reluctant. He felt horrible digging his blade into his old friend, but, over time, as he tortured, his emotions numbed. All he felt was anger, and glee. After so long, he doesn't know how much he's tortured. He just knows what comes next.

Now, as Alistair's most talented apprentice, Burr was given a special task; torture a man named Dean Winchester.

He didn't know what was so special about this guy, but he was top priority. And Burr was eager. Alistair had said that his transformation was almost complete. Only a few more souls...

Burr could feel his heart beat with excitement as he walked into the new cell. Alistair was twice as excited as he was, but he didn't know why. Alistair was just buzzing with happiness.

"Shouldn't we change form?" Burr whispered.

Alistair nodded thoughtfully. Burr was given the image of a tall, muscular man with long hair. Alistair become a gruff old man with a trucker cap. They continued towards the squirming man.

And this man looked truly pitiful. He was screaming, tears welled up in his eyes. "SAM!" He yelled, over and over again.

"Won't work." Burr sneered. The man looked down at them and scowled.

"And who are you, you freaks." The man growled.

"You know who we are, boy." Alistair snarled. "How can you not recognize either of us? We're your family."

"You're not Bobby." The man was glaring at Alistair, then turned to Burr. "You're not my brother."

"Believe that all you want." Burr said. "But we are your family. You're our top priority. A demon hunter. Never worked on one of you before. This is going to be fun." He dragged his favourite blade along Dean's cheek, cutting open the skin. The man barely flinched. "Someone has experience with pain."

"Being a hunter isn't a painless lifestyle." He hissed.

"Oh, buddy, any sort of life is totally behind you." Burr sneered as he drove the blade through the man's cheek. Dean's desperate scream filled the air. The tears he was holding back spilled over as Burr slowly twisted the blade out of his jaw.

"Don't hold back with this one, Sammy." Alistair snarled. "He deserves everything you've got."

Burr smiled evilly as he twirled his knife through Dean's brain. The scream was so... fulfilling. He left the blade there as he addressed the man.

"What's the matter, Rapunzel? Can't deal with the pain?" He smiled.

"Bite me, Sam." Dean spat through gritted teeth.

"Well, if you insist." He said before digging his teeth into the man's arm, causing another yell.

With that came many, many years of torture. And they have been the best years of Burr's afterlife. Torturing this Winchester alongside his master was so, invigorating.

This strong, strapping young man was reduced to shreds by the former vice president. Everyday. And everyday, they extended the same offer everyone receives.

Dean always spits in their face, telling them to 'fuck off'.

Unfortunately for him, Burr knows how to wait. So, day after day, he waits. And waits. And waits. And waits...

"Fine." Dean spat.

"What?" Burr looked down at him, surprised. It's been only thirty years. This strong demon hunter is giving in long before he did.

"Yes." Dean snarled. "Yes. I'll do it. Now take me off the damn rack."

Alistair laughed as he snapped his fingers. Dean was standing on his feet, glaring at them both.

"You know, you gave in a lot earlier than I expected." Burr said. "It took them a hundred years to break me ."

Dean glared at him and snatched the knife with his hand. "Let's get this over with." He mumbled.

Alistair smirked, and lead them away from the familiar cell.

"By the way, Rapunzel." Burr leaned into the man. "Call me Burr."

"Why? Cause you're so cold hearted?"

Burr laughed. "That was my name in life."

"So what, you're here cause you murdered an annoying guy?"

"Wow. Somebody does know their history. Kudos."

"Well, I find historical murders interesting." Dean paused before looking at him. "Wait, you're Aaron Burr? The Aaron Burr?" Burr glared at him. "You are? Hm. Working alongside a vice president. I feel important."

Burr laughed. "Someone's humourous."

"Stop talking." Alistair turned to them. "Now, Dean. I am Alistair. But you will only refer to me as master. You will train with myself." Alistair turned to him. "Burr, leave. I'm done training you."

He nodded. "Yes, sir." He slipped past Dean, smirking at him as he left.

He walked through the halls, approaching the castle. When he saw who was standing outside, he groaned.

"Burr," Meg said. "Congratulations. I heard you got to torture Dean Winchester."

"Yea? What's so special about him?"

Meg growled at the thought. "He's thrown me back in this dump twice, and almost killed me. I wish I was still transforming if only to stab a sword through his eye."

Burr laughed. "Sounds like Earth doesn't like you very much."

"It's just those motherfucking Winchesters." She groaned. "Everyone wants them dead."

"Luckily, Rapunzel is." He smiled.

Meg rolled her eyes. "Where are you off to?"

"Alistair has said that I'm almost complete, so I'm going to check out the professions."

Meg laughed. "Choose wisely. You're stuck with what you get for the rest of eternity. Or until you're killed." She turned and walked away as she laughed.

Burr entered the room with the list of professions. There wasn't many to choose from, but they all sounded nice:

The first was Torturer. To stay in the Pit and teach new souls how to maim and cut and kill.

The next was Servant. You would serve the King or Queen of Hell and do whatever they asked. That was the least popular option.

The third was Crossroads. To go to the surface and make deals with desperate humans.

Another was Summoners. You wait until someone's stupid enough to summon you, then you take control of their lives.

The last were the Destructors. That list was the most exclusive. A certain amount of demons were chosen to wreak havoc on Earth.

To Burr, they all sounded decent. Well, except for Servant. He was never going to serve again.

The rest sounded like they'd fit his skill set. He was good at negotiating, patience, and torturing. They all sounded appealing.

Burr was intelligent. He knew what would be right for him. He knew what he wanted to do with his new-found life. He walked to the Gateway.

"What do you want?" The Guard said.

"I seek passage to Earth." He responded.

The Guard sniffed him. "Newblood, hey? Fine. Profession of choice?"

"I'd like to work as a Crossroads."

"Good. We don't have many of you anymore. That Winchester killed a lot of Crossroads Demons." He allowed Burr to pass. "Good luck, Newblood."


	3. Chapter 3

The world was so much different than when Burr last saw it. There was so much... everything. New, glowy technology, huge, towering buildings, and more people than he could count.

And America... Oh, America! It was truly beautiful. So big... 50 states! And millions and millions of people. All of them happily living in the bustling country. Burr couldn't help but feel pride at seeing what he helped to create. If that bastard Hamilton could see him now.

He stopped himself. He couldn't reminisce and admire now; He had a new job to do. He needed a vessel. To... possess somebody.

It felt foreign on his tongue. It was weird. Really weird. He wasn't human anymore. Everything was different. The whole world, America, him...

No. No! This is right. He's something beautiful now, not something weird. He was great and powerful. And he needed someone to project his power unto the world.

But with everything different, it was hard to tell where he was. The buildings were tall, the people numerous, the streets alive with moving machines. Carriages?

Stay on task, dammit! He thought to himself.

Burr looked down on himself. Wasn't much to look at anymore. Just a cloud of red smoke. Clearly, he couldn't just go out and discover where he was. He needed a vessel. And fast.

Suddenly, a person stumbled into the wide alley he was in. He was... he was black. And he looked happy. He looked free. The man had white ropey-things in his ears and a huge smile on his face. That wasn't right. He was supposed to be a slave.

Angry, Burr surged forward, embedding himself in that thing. Instantly, he was struck with new knowledge. History after his death, where he was, who his vessel was, and so, so much more.

He opened his eyes, feeling renewed. He had a body again. It would be his. Screw this kid, Leslie or something stupid like that. This is his body now.

Thoughts from his vessel surged forward, but he quickly quieted them. But one he received. One he didn't like:

He was next to Broadway. In New York . And that Leslie kid was on his way to help a friend, Lin, with a musical. A musical about that bastard .

Burr growled loudly, a trash can behind him exploding. If he had anything to say about it, that motherfucking show would never be finished.

But he had a job to do. He needed to damn as many souls to Hell as he could. He smiled. He knew just where to start. Burr walked towards the doors.

"Leslie!" Lin shouted from the stage. He was clearly happy to see this face.

"Lin!" Burr responded, trying to sound happy. "So good to see you!" He embraced the man.

"Thank God you're here!" Lin was gripping his shoulders tightly. "I'm stuck in a rut and I need all the help I can get!"

"Of course, Lin. Anything I can do." He smirked as the man rushed away.

"Right, now, I'm stuck on 'What'd I Miss', and it's hard to figure out what to do with the rest of the act." He started rummaging through the papers scattered everywhere.

Burr bent down and picked up one of the papers. The song was titled 'Wait For It'. And it was good . He grimaced. Why did Hamilton get everything he wanted in life?

"- and the notes aren't matching up correctly. It's really stressing me out!" He didn't realize Lin was speaking until he looked at him with huge puppy eyes.

"Well…" He tried.

"Well what?!" The man shouted.

"Well, I can't help you like that." He said. Lin looked at him incredulously. "I can help you in other ways though." He let his eyes go blood red.

"AH!" The man fell on his back, screaming. "Leslie?!"

"Not right now." He smiled devilishly. "You can call me…" He thought for a moment.

This man idolized Hamilton. Imagine what he would do if he found out the he, Aaron Burr, had become a demon.

"...Guy." He blurted out.

"O-okay, Guy…" Lin said cautiously. "What do you want? What did you do to Leslie?!"

"Don't worry about him. He's fine. But you, you are going to get much better." He pointed to the shivering man.

Lin slowly nodded. "I can make you a deal. Ten years, in exchange for spectacular fame. All I need is your soul."

"My-my soul?"

"You're soul. Amazing artistic achievements, profound fame, just for a little, speck of nothing." He lied. Might be better to squeeze a few details out.

"Um…" Lin wheezed.

Burr held his hands up. "Take your time. I'll be patient." He began to walk towards the exit before he heard a squeak.

"Wait." He turned to find a shaky Lin standing on the stage. "Could you really help me with that?"

"That and more."

Lin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Guy gestured him to go on. "Ok."

Guy smiled. "Alrightly. But we have to seal the deal with a kiss." He crooked his finger, beckoning Lin toward him.

Reluctantly, the man approached him. He slowly reached his arm toward the demon. Guy grabbed him, rushing into the kiss.

When they separated, Lin half smiled nervously.

"See you in ten years." Guy smiled as he turned to leave. He laughed. This was going to be easier than he thought.

* * *

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" The girl squealed. Guy looked down at her, scrambling to pick up her books. Damn. She looked so pathetic.

"No worries!" He said, getting down to help her with her books. He took pity on her. So what? He was busy.

"No! Really! It's my fault! I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

"Really," He interrupted. "It's fine." Not really. He just wanted to get back to work. And he really needed a new book.

But the pitiful girl seemed to want something else. "I'm Becky." She said, clearly smitten.

His legacy would be nothing if he didn't keep up his manners. "I'm Guy." He shook her hand.

The girl- Becky smiled. "Oh! You like Super Duper Hot Vampires too?" He sighed. This was going to be a long ride. But after a few years, his initial disgust faded the more time Becky insisted they spend together. She was annoying as hell, but she was great for business.

He's made deals with so many of her friends. All those geeks, those nerds, those loser, they were all desperate enough that they were going to Hell. Because of him. He was great at his job.

And he was able to make everything better: his deals were supposed to be ten years, but he was able to, shorten that time.

He was able to get more deals, and much more souls. Guy was truly innovating Hell. He should be king. Not Crowley.

Not that he wasn't good at his other job. As a cover, he worked as a party planner. And he was great at it. He made so much human currency, he had nothing to do with it, not needing to eat and all.

And little Becky. She was very endearing, thinking he was a gay Wiccan. And she believed it, too. He showed her some of his magic, and she was spellbound. She was out of town right now, just after asking for a love potion.

All in all, afterlife was pretty good for him.

That is, until he met a Winchester.

Becky came back from Vegas, excited and married. Married to Sam Winchester. He was busy enough, now he had to deal with a fucking Winchester.

"It's an honour to meet you, Sam." Guy faked. He reluctantly shook the man's hand. He didn't want to be in this situation.

"Thanks. You too."

"Guy's a really good friend. We met in the erotic horror section in the Novel Hovel."

"God, Becky, come on." He said, embarrassed. He just so happened to like erotic novels. Sue him. He was a lawyer. "TMI." He likes the slang today's generation uses. It's interesting and kind of fun.

The rest of the conversation went quickly, and he tried to get out of there as fast as he could. He was walking away as casually as he could.

"One more thing." Becky grabbed his jacket. "Did you get my message?"

"Of course. I thought you'd never ask. Now give me a hug." Guy smiled, and stealthily handed her the potion. She smiled, thanked him, and went back to her Winchester. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

* * *

In hindsight, it was stupid to tell Becky. He knew she was a huge fan of that Supernatural series, but he didn't think she would really use that against him. He had hoped she would've taken the deal. She should've, if she was that obsessed with Sam Winchester. But, no.

"Blueberry vodka." The skinny man said as he approached. "The answer to all of life's problems."

Becky was rambling something, but it wasn't paid any mind. He stared at Dean Winchester. He was supposed to be in Hell.

"Dean Winchester." Guy smiled. "This is really thrilling. It's been so long, hasn't it?"

Dean stopped. "What?"

"Don't you remember me? We were besties back in Hell. I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Rapunzel?"

Dean stopped, shock written all over his face. Guy smirked devilishly.

"Dean?" Sam asked. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine, Sammy." His hands clenched into hard fists. "Just seeing an old friend."

"What?" Skinny asked.

"Garth," Sam whispered, pulling them both back a few steps. Dean stepped forward.

"So, Dean," Guy started. "Long time no see. Hey, how did you break out? I've never heard of anyone doing that."

"Didn't you hear? I thought it was all over the news." Dean was circling the Devil's trap. "An angel saved me."

Guy shrugged. "I've been busy."

"I'm not surprised that the Vice President's been busy." Gasps of shock came from behind Dean.

"What did you call me?" Guy's words were heavy with threat.

"You told me who you were in life. I remembered, just in case our paths ever crossed again. And thank God that they did." He pulled out the demon's knife. "Let's assassinate the President."

"You said 'vice president'." Garth pointed out.

"Shut up." Dean snarled.

"Dean," Guy started, nervous. "You don't want to do this."

"I do. After everything you did to me, I do. Might as well take revenge for that Hamilton guy, too."

"DON'T!" Burr screamed. "Don't you say that bastard's name!"

"And don't do anything." A dark voice said. Crowley appeared from behind Sam. "He's mine to handle."

"No way. After what he did to me, it's me that should kill him." Dean stood tall against the King of Hell.

"But he's disobeyed." Crowley stated calmly. "Disobeyed my orders, disobeyed the sanctity of Hell's contracts, disobey-"

"I was innovating. Improving our soul count and the crossroads process!"

"That doesn't matter!" Crowley shouted. "If the person does before the ten years are up, the contract is void. Their souls go to Heaven!"

Burr shrunk back. Shit.

"And to make sure that no one else in my kingdom disobeys like you did, you're coming with me."

"Afraid not there, Crowley." Dean stepped in. "This asshat is mine."

"Sorry," Crowley smirked. "King trumps Winchester." He snapped his fingers, and suddenly, Burr was somewhere else.

Hell. He was in Hell. He was on the rack in Hell. He was about to be tortured on the rack in Hell. In front of everyone.

"My people," Crowley began. "Take this as an example for when you go against my words." He looked down to a frightened Burr. "Die, you bastard."

An angel blade was thrust through his solar plexus, and for the second time, everything went black.


End file.
